


My Grass Isn't Greener; It's Blue.

by RipperShipper



Series: Father's Day [2]
Category: Castle
Genre: Angst, F/M, Father's Day, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperShipper/pseuds/RipperShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Father's day brings an interesting turn of events for Castle and Beckett. Takes place post-"The Limey" and I stretched the timeline a little so that they were still fighting in June, meaning "Always" happened somewhere in mid-July.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Grass Isn't Greener; It's Blue.

My Grass Isn't Greener; It's Blue

Summary: Father's day brings an interesting turn of events for Castle and Beckett. Takes place post-"The Limey" and I stretched the timeline a little so that they were still fighting in June, meaning "Always" happened somewhere in mid-July.

Disclaimer: Not mine, I just enjoy talking with them.

Author's Note: I should be working on my other story, but I have a lot of feelings about Father's Day and I really needed to write this. Hope you enjoy! It's super angst with a little fluff.

Kate Beckett sat slumped over her desk, her pen clicking incessantly as she stared at her pile of never-ending paper work. Today had been long, and well, awkward, to say the least. Between Castle's horrid new behavior and an almost painful lunch with her dad, all Kate wanted to do was crawl inside her vacation days and never come out. Then again, father's day always seemed to be that way for her. After her mother died, Kate had taken to boycotting both of the parental holidays – one because it hurt too much to remember and one because it hurt too much to try. She had tried to make father's day special at first. The first June after Johanna's death, the summer of Kate's sophomore year of college, she'd pulled out all the stops. Her father was still drowning in alcoholism, but she was determined to make this day different.

(Flashback)

Kate woke early and snuck through the kitchen to make her father's favorite breakfast, hoping to bring it to him in bed before he could wake and wrap his hand around the nearest bottle. There were some ingredients missing from the neglected kitchen, though, and she wasted precious time running to the store. She was nowhere near quick enough. Half way through setting the tray, she heard banging in her dad's room, the surest sign that he was awake and stumbling around trying to figure out where he'd thrown the previous night's drink. Moving fast, Kate threw the tray together as fast as she could and burst into her dad's room, a not-quite convincing smile plastered on her face.

"Happy Father's Day, dad!" She exclaimed.

"Whaa?" Jim murmured.

Kate couldn't tell if he was mumbling from grogginess or if he'd managed to find one of the bottles before she came in.

"I made you breakfast." She said. "I thought maybe we could eat and then go down to the park and go paddle boating and then maybe…"

"What are you talking about?" He asked impatiently. Kate paused. This was already going poorly.

"It's father's day." She said simply. "I wasn't really available for the last one (understatement of the century, Kate) so I thought maybe I could make it up to you." She tried.

"Katie, I really don't want to go anywhere." He sighed with a slight hint of irritancy.

"Oh." She'd been expecting as much, but it didn't mean she wasn't disappointed. "Can we at least eat breakfast?" she asked.

He seemed to contemplate the offer for a long time. His eyes flickered from his daughter to the tray of food.

"I guess." He consented. Kate let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she could get things back on track.

"Great." She smiled. "I made waffles." She said it nonchalantly, but secretly she was very proud of herself. She'd never even attempted the recipe from scratch without her mom before…

Jim finally let out a slight smile. Waffles were his favorite. Kate sat down on the end of the bed and set the tray between them. Jim sat on the other side of the waffles and started pouring on syrup as Kate discretely kicked the nearby bottle of scotch under the bed.

When she looked up again, his smile was completely gone.

"Katherine, what did you do to these?" He asked.

Kate shuddered. He never called her Katherine.

"I don't understand." Kate said.

"I think you exactly what I'm talking about," his voice grew louder, "why would you do this?"

"Dad, I swear I don't –" she cut herself off as she looked down at the waffles. Her heart sank. She hadn't meant to, she hadn't even been thinking about it, she just made them the way her mom made them. She hadn't even stopped to think that the only time she made them with her mom was when Johanna wanted to surprise Jim on their anniversaries. She hadn't stopped to think that there might be something special about the waffles besides the occasion. She was wrong. Nestled in the batter, peaking out from the syrup, were dozens of tiny little cherries. Johanna's favorite – Kate's heart sunk even more – and the only time they were ever in waffles was on her parents' anniversary. Damn.

"Oh God." She whispered. "Dad, I'm so sorry."

"Get out." He spat.

"Dad, please, just let me…" she could feel tears building behind her eyes.

"GET OUT, KATE!" He hollered.

And she did. She did the only thing she'd ever done when she was too afraid and lost to do anything else; she ran. She ran out the door, down the stairs, out the front door of the apartment, and down the street as fast as she could. She ran faster than her muscles wanted to allow. They burned and screamed and her feet ached from her sandals, and none of it mattered. She kept running because it was the only trustable thing in her life. Running was solid: her body, her heartbeat. It hurt, it stung, and she often regretted it the next morning, but it was better than a lot of the choices from the previous year she regretted, and so she kept going. She ran and ran and when she stopped, she was standing in front of her mother's grave.

"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

She ignored the tears now falling freely down her cheeks. She pounded the dirt beneath the now-wilted flowers from the month before. She kept screaming at Johanna that she hated her, because if she said it enough, it might be true, and that would hurt less than the truth, right?

(End Flashback)

"Beckett?"

Kate snapped out of her reverie at the sound of Detective Ryan's voice.

"Yeah," she said. "Sorry, it's been a long day."

"No worries. Just letting you know I'm heading home."

"Great. See you tomorrow." She waved.

"You got it, boss." Ryan turned to grab his jacket, but turned back around at his realization. "Hey, Beckett, where's Castle?"

"Why, you miss your girlfriend, Ryan?" She asked with a smirk. She loved their relationship. Ryan didn't really seem to laugh though.

"No, I was just wondering. He seemed off yesterday…like, bad off, not 'I'm about to miss a deadline' off."

Kate paused and thought back to yesterday's case. She supposed Castle had been acting a little strange. She hadn't really thought about it, though, given his new determination to plow over her soul with his latest slutty conquest…

"I guess." She replied with a shrug. Okay, so maybe something was up with Castle. So? Something was up with her too and it was all his fault. Why should she go banging down his door when it was clear he wanted nothing to do with her?

"Okay…" Ryan was confused. He knew Castle and Beckett had been odd lately, but they'd never been this indifferent to each other. He paused. "Just think about maybe giving him a call later."

Ryan quickly picked up his jacket and headed for the elevator before Kate had a chance to argue, leaving her alone in the precinct.

Kate sighed. Normally she wouldn't mind staying long hours after dark by herself, but she was mentally and emotionally exhausted, and she just couldn't do it anymore. She double checked the murder board, threw the phone records she was looking at into a folder and headed for the door. It was probably due to her mood, but Kate swore the elevator took triple the time it usually took to get to her floor. She lazily stomped into the elevator as the doors creaked open and fell back against the wall in exhaustion.

Closing her eyes, Kate thought back to Ryan's parting words.

It wasn't that she didn't want to call him. She did. She always did. Every minute of every day he wasn't with her, all she wanted to do was pull out her phone; but things were different now. Even if he was going through a rough patch, she couldn't call him. Not because she didn't care, but because he wouldn't answer. He hadn't answered her calls in days. With every ignored ring, Kate felt her stomach lurch with the thought of what, or who, he might be doing while she was pining away pathetically.

"He doesn't want me anymore," she thought to herself, "he doesn't need me."

Pushing back tears for the millionth time that day, Kate rushed out of the elevator and headed towards the subway. Half way down the grimy stairs, she stopped.

"Dammit, Castle." She cursed. Fuming at herself, she marched back up the stairs and called a taxi to the loft.

********

Kate knocked hesitantly at the loft door. There was no way this was going to end well. He was going to be busy with his latest girlfriend, he was going to throw her out and take her key, he was going to tell Alexis to stab her with a kitchen knife, he was going to –

"Castle!" Kate was startled by the sound of the door clicking open. "Oh. Martha." She added embarrassed when she realized who actually opened the door.

"He's not here, Detective Beckett." Martha said. Kate noticed the ice in the older woman's voice. Were all the Castles mad at her? What the hell did she do?

"Oh." She managed. Awkward silence filled the doorway. Kate wasn't ready to back off, and Martha didn't seem ready to let her into the apartment. "Do you know where he went?" She asked. Martha's gaze narrowed.

"Even if I did," she started slowly, "I don't think you're the person to talk with him right now."

"Martha, I –"

"Detective, I know I'm being harsh, but given what day it is, I don't want him to have to deal with whatever issues you two are going through on top of everything else."

"What day it is?" Kate asked genuinely confused. She racked her brain for anything Castle might have mentioned, but she was drawing a blank.

"I'm sorry, Detective Beckett." Martha said. Kate was thrilled to hear a hint of compassion in her voice. "I'll let him know you were here."

Kate knew she was fighting a losing battle, so she stepped back and let Martha close the door. Great. Perfect. She knew she shouldn't have come. The one time she was trying to be the bigger person in their relationship and she couldn't even find him.

'Given what day it is…'

What day was it for Castle? It wasn't anyone's birthday, and given Martha's morose expression, she didn't think it was happy occasion anyway. Anniversary of someone's death? She couldn't remember Castle ever talking about losing someone particularly close to him. As far as Kate knew, everyone in Castle's life was fine. Alexis looked beaming, in fact, that afternoon when she'd come back to the morgue after apparently taking Castle out for Father's Day brunch…

Oh, stupid, stupid Kate.

She should've known. He hadn't cared the last three years, but she knew this year was going to be different. Ever since Sophia betrayed them and teased Castle about his father's identity, there had been hints. He never mentioned it directly, but the signs of growing obsessive curiosity were there. She should've recognized it; the eager tenacity she knew so well, but she completely forgot. To be fair, her mind was a bit preoccupied with his sudden jackass attitude, but she should've paid attention. She should've been there.

'Because he's always done the same for you – especially when you too were acting like an asshole…'

"Castle." She whispered as she took off out of his building.

***********

"Come on, pick up." Kate muttered as Castle's phone went to voicemail for the third time. He always answered his phone, what the hell was he doing?

"Castle, it's me," her third message, "look I don't know what I did, but I'm really worried about you, so please just call me back, okay?" She had to bite back the urge to add a second 'please'. Despite her genuinely concerned feelings, she didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing she was practically begging for his call.

Where could he have gone? When she missed her mother, she went to the cemetery, but Castle didn't have anywhere to go relating to his father; did he? Sophia mentioned something about the CIA, but even Castle wouldn't go down that route if he was feeling sentimental. What else did he know? As far as Kate knew, all Martha had told him was that she wasn't sure who his father was. She was lost in the whirlwind of her biggest show and she honestly couldn't remember what happened. All she knew was that somewhere in those weeks, she found out she was pregnant.

'Her biggest show.' Kate's mind mulled over the idea. It was slight, but it was something. He'd mentioned it to her more than once in passing, so it was certainly something he'd thought about.

"Taxi!" Kate hollered as she reached out over the curb. She jumped in and quickly gave the driver her destination.

"The Richard Rodgers Theater, please."

**********

Kate paid the fare and jumped out of the cab in front of Castle's real namesake. It was a long shot, but this was the theater where Martha met Castle's dad. It was as close to him as anything else she could think of.

"Castle?" she yelled. The theater was dark. It was a Sunday night and everyone was long gone from the earlier matinee. Somehow, Kate didn't think that would stop Castle if he was actually there.

"Castle?" she tried again as she ran around the building to the stage door. She smiled in spite of herself when she saw it was propped open. Gingerly pulling the handle, she snuck in and pulled the door softly behind her. She walked quickly down the white dressing room hall and onto the back of the stage. She wasn't disappointed. Sitting in the dark, slightly illuminated by the aptly-named ghost light, was Richard Castle.

"Hello?" He asked.

Darn. She thought she'd been quiet. The plan was simply to make sure he was okay and then back out if it looked like she'd only annoy him by asking questions.

"Who's there?" He asked more persistently, though with a small knowing tone that made Kate's stomach flip. Damn him. No one else got her this worked up about a simple conversation.

"Hey Castle." She said softly, still not moving from her place in the shadows. He sighed.

"Beckett, what are you doing here?" He was clearly less than pleased.

"I was worried. No one had heard from you since lunch and Ryan said you looked unhappy the other day."

"Ryan said I looked unhappy…" he said. "Tell me, Kate," she winced at the bite behind her name, "would you have come looking if you hadn't talked to Ryan? Would you have even noticed?"

Kate's heart clenched. For the first time since his behavior changed, she heard the genuine hurt behind Castle's words. What on earth did she do to make him this upset? She never meant to hurt him like this – she didn't think she ever could.

"You're my partner, Castle, of course I noticed."

"But you didn't care until someone else told you to." He bit back. "You didn't care about how I felt enough to actually talk to me. Other people? Sure. Hell, even a terrorist suspect was more worthy of your honesty…"

'Oh shit.' Kate panicked. That's what this was about…oh crap…this was not at all…he was never supposed to…oh no no no…and now he thought…but she would never…

"Sometimes people do stupid things for the right reasons, Castle." He finally looked up at her. "Sometimes it's easier to pretend that we can protect the people we love by not telling them what they want to know." She inched forward with every word until she was standing only a few feet away from him. She was close enough that she could see he was sitting on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over the side and fingers clenched into the woodwork.

"Sometimes people are too scared to face the truth…even if they might gain something wonderful from it." She continued. "Sometimes, people even make horrible mistakes, and it takes them awhile to realize what they've learned from them." She was getting dangerously close to forbidden territory. She needed to back off before she said something she couldn't handle. "I know Martha doesn't regret her 'mistake' of being with your father." 'Yes, that was a completely valid subject change, Kate. Keep telling yourself that.'

"You've been talking to my mother?" He asked somewhat incredulously. Then his face softened. "Did she tell you I would be here?" Kate smiled.

"No, actually," she replied, "I figured that one out for myself." Castle's eyes met hers for the first time that night.

"How?" He asked simply.

"You." She said. "Ever since the CIA case," she still couldn't say Sophia's name, "you've been talking more about your parents. The only time I ever heard you mention your dad before this year was when Alexis had that genealogy project. You never seemed to care before this year. When I put your mood together with the day, I took a guess. This place is the closest to a physical connection you have to your father. I…I get it."

"I'm so sorry, Castle." She continued. "I should've been there for you from the start. I should've known. When you came and sat with me in the cemetery in May…I can't tell you how much that meant. I can't tell you how sorry I am for not realizing you might be hurting too." She broke their gaze and cast her eyes to the floor. She was supposed to be comforting him, and this was not at all how she wanted this conversation to go.

"You remember all that?" Castle asked softly. Kate glanced up, confused by the care in his voice.

"All of what?" she asked.

"Everything. Alexis' project, the name of the theater, everything…" He seemed pleasantly awed and Kate's heart soared. He was worried she didn't care about him and she'd managed to calm his fears without even thinking about it. 'Okay, karma, I'll play…'

"Of course I do, Castle." She reassured. "You think you're the only one with magical powers of observation? Who's the detective here?" She smiled and the sparkle in his eyes. They were going to be okay. Not immediately, but they were going to be okay.

They sat in familiar, comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

"I don't know why I thought it would help." He said.

"Coming here?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah," he said, "I guess I thought, maybe, if I sat here – in a place I know he sat – that I would feel…something. Not a burst of feeling or a miraculous epiphany, but just…something." He paused. "Now that I'm here. I don't really know if I feel anything." He looked up at her. "Is that bad?"

'Oh, Castle.' "No, Castle, it's…" she paused, looking for the right words. "it's different. When I visit my mom, I'm visiting her grave; I'm visiting my memories of her. When I'm there, it's like I can see her standing in front of me. I can talk to her and for a moment, I can feel like she's right there listening to me." Kate sniffled and pushed her feelings back; now was not the time. "This is completely different, Castle. You never knew your dad. It's hard to find connection to someone you've never met."

"I just wish I knew something about him…anything about him." He chuckled. "I don't even know why he was here that night. Was he a theater fan? Was he dragged by a girlfriend who he dropped when he met my mother? Did he drop her at all? Was he actually in the CIA? Was he here on assignment?" Castle shook his head. "All I know was that sometime, 42 years ago, he was sitting in this room…I guess that doesn't mean very much."

Kate stayed silent, waiting for her partner to find the words to say what he actually wanted to tell her.

"What if she was telling the truth?" he asked.

Kate didn't have to think hard to figure out who 'she' was. Damn, she hated Sophia.

"Kate, what if that's the truth?" he asked again. "What if my dad knew who I was my entire life and never said a word? Why would he do that? How could someone do that? How could someone be such a horrible father?"

Kate slowly reached over and put her hand on his, squeezing his fingers comfortingly.

"Castle, he's not you. You know that, right?" Kate finally spoke. "You are not a horrible father. You're, actually, one of the greatest parents I've ever met."

"Kate,"

"Alexis is incredibly lucky, Castle. You may have screwed up in the past, but that girl…she's extraordinary." Castle smiled.

"I thought that was my word for you."

"Yeah, well, what can I say, Castle? I guess you're surrounded by us." She winked.

"I think I can live with that." He squeezed her hand back as she moved to sit next to him, her foot knocking his every few moments.

"Happy Father's Day, Castle." She said.

"Thank you." He replied. She stood up to leave.

"Hey Beckett." He stopped her. "Until tomorrow." She smiled.

"Until tomorrow."

*********

Guys, I have a lot of feelings. Just saying. Let me know if you enjoyed! =) Until tomorrow, readers.


End file.
